


Holiday Service

by Stealth_Noodle



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Comment Fic, Costume Kink, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/F, Fisting, Porn, Ridiculous, Sexual Roleplay, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealth_Noodle/pseuds/Stealth_Noodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those ridiculous costumes aren't just good for fighting Shadows; they're also perfect for sexy roleplay, particularly anything involving a maid and a dominatrix Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Service

**Author's Note:**

> For prompts "dress-up" and "dominance."

When Yukari let herself into Mitsuru's unlocked room, holding her robe tightly closed in case anyone happened to look down the hall, Mitsuru was nowhere in sight. "Senpai? Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I'm still changing." Mitsuru's voice carried from the direction of the bedroom closet. There was a hint of nervous embarrassment in her voice, as if they'd never done this before. "If you wouldn't mind getting ready...?"

"Yeah, sure. Take your time." Yukari shrugged off her robe and draped it over the back of the chair, then busied herself smoothing the skirt of her maid outfit. The glass of the china cabinet provided enough of a reflection for her to put the headpiece in place and even out the sleeves. Just walking across the hall like this had excited her, even with her robe on; today she'd decided not to wear anything under it but thigh-highs.

When she heard the closet door close, she picked up her feather duster and pretended to be deeply engaged in tidying up the coffee table. "You must be the new maid," Mitsuru's voice said, in tones that could have given a new Kirijo Group employee a heart attack.

Yukari stilled the duster with a coy little gasp. "Yes, ma'am," she began, turning and entering a bow, "I just—" The moment her gaze landed on Mitsuru, she straightened up and put her free hand on her hip. " _Seriously_ , Senpai?"

"You will address me as Madame Claus," Mitsuru replied sternly, or at least as sternly as anyone could in a strapless Santa dress and matching hat. Yukari caught the faint hint of a blush before she sashayed to the television stand and ran a gloved finger along the side, clucking her tongue. "This level of dust is unacceptable. How do you intend to pass your performance review?"

Well, indulgence was a two-way street. Yukari clasped her hands behind her back, affected meek innocence, and said, "Gosh, I guess I'm gonna have to learn how to prioritize, Madame Claus. Where should I start?"

Mitsuru turned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She raised one of her heeled feet to rest on the coffee table, which hiked her short red dress obscenely high. (Yukari noted that she had chosen to wear underwear, though not much of it.) "You may start with the shoes you've neglected to polish."

Yukari knelt and flicked the feather duster over the immaculately clean shoe, obviously not one that had ever been to Tartarus.

Mitsuru snapped her fingers. "I bade you polish, not dust. Use your tongue."

"O-of course, Madame Claus." As Yukari set the duster aside, she sniffed and caught a whiff of new leather and soap. Mitsuru pushed, but never too far.

And Yukari pushed, too, wrapping a hand around Mitsuru's calf to caress what she knew to be a sensitive spot. She flattened her tongue and ran it along the side of the shoe as ordered, but kept going and licked her way around Mitsuru's ankle.

When she came around again for another taste of leather and citrus, Mitsuru reached and caught her by the chin, saying, "Enough. I see I'll have to teach you how to follow instructions."

Mitsuru had a fluffy white ball on the end of her hat, for God's sake, and her tone still turned Yukari into a puddle inside. From Yukari's current angle, she had a breathtaking view of Mitsuru's cleavage, on the verge of spilling out of that ridiculous dress. She squeezed her thighs together, craving friction.

"Get up," Mitsuru said, releasing her, "and bend over."

Yukari obeyed, bracing her hands against the coffee table for balance. A shiver ran up her spine and burst out as a gasp when Mitsuru flipped her skirt up over her back.

With a dismissive sniff, Mitsuru ran a hand over her bare ass. "Even your outfit isn't up to our standards."

Yukari's cunt throbbed. "I'm really sorry, Madame Claus. What would you rather have me wear?"

"Don't speak unless I ask you a question." Mitsuru delivered a quick, sharp spank that made Yukari's breath hitch. "And spread your legs."

As Yukari shifted her thighs apart, giddy with exposure, she felt a tap at her cheek and heard, "Open your mouth." When she did so, Mitsuru stuffed her gloves between Yukari's teeth and added, "Don't drop them."

They tasted like silk. No doubt they hadn't seen any more combat than the high heels. Yukari bit down on them to stifle a groan when Mitsuru's bare hand ghosted up her thigh and stroked her curls appraisingly.

Mitsuru leaned over, pressing her breasts to Yukari's back, and purred into her ear, "I will now test your ability to follow instructions. If you move or make a sound, you will fail." 

Yukari nearly failed right off the bat, scarcely suppressing a disappointed moan when Mitsuru's hand left her vulva to stroke the trembling muscles above her mons. Mitsuru loved to tease; one way or another, they always ended up making a game out of Yukari's desperation. Mitsuru's hands traced slow patterns over every patch of bare skin but the area growing so wet that Yukari was surprised she wasn't dripping on the table. As it was, she could feel her arousal trickling down her legs to seep into her thigh-highs.

"So far, you are performing adequately," Mitsuru remarked. One of her hands suddenly cupped Yukari's vulva, palm flexing pressure from side to side, and Yukari ground the gloves between her teeth.

Two fingers dipped inside her with agonizing slowness as Mitsuru's other hand brushed her blazing cheek with a tenderness that almost broke character. With the addition of a third finger, Mitsuru began to thrust roughly, the heel of her hand pressing into Yukari's perineum. Yukari's clit strained for contact.

Intense familiarity let Mitsuru touch her everywhere but the places that cried out loudest for it. A quick buck of her hips or a shift in the angle of her legs, and Yukari would have been trembling her way to orgasm. She felt like the beach at low tide, waves rolling in and out over her but never quite far enough. Sweat broke out over her body.

The teasing intensified to the point of touches that were perfect but too fleeting to bring her release. From there, Mitsuru drew her right up to the vertiginous edge of a chest-heaving, back-arching, toe-curling climax before abruptly ceasing all contact. Yukari's frustrated whine sent the gloves tumbling to the table and earned a sharp slap to her backside.

"Shameful." Mitsuru flipped her skirt back into place. "On your knees."

Aching with need, Yukari tried to sneak a hand under her skirt as she knelt. She'd barely begun the motion before Mitsuru rapped her knuckles with the feather duster and added, "Hands behind your back."

As Yukari laced her fingers together, Mitsuru's free hand deftly unbuttoned her blouse. Creating a nice view for herself, no doubt, with Yukari's posture pushing her chest out. When Mitsuru reached the end of the buttons, she slipped her hand under the fabric and kneaded Yukari's breast until Yukari couldn't help whimpering.

With a sharp hushing sound, Mitsuru withdrew her hand and pressed it to the back of Yukari's head, guiding her under the hem of the dress. Careful not to scrape, Yukari caught the lacy black scrap of underwear in her teeth and dragged it down. She lapped at the exposed folds almost frantically, as if Mitsuru's release would somehow trigger her own.

"Be still," Mitsuru said after a few minutes. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Yukari tensed with anticipation; she'd asked for this to be included tonight. She couldn't have said _why_ she enjoyed it so much, but something about servicing Mitsuru this way made her entire body tingle. She let her head go limp as Mitsuru's hand wrapped firmly around the back of it, holding her in place as Mitsuru fucked her mouth. 

Something about the way Mitsuru's cunt slid everywhere from her nose to her chin, something about the forceful thrusts of Mitsuru's hips, something about being coated in arousal, something about the fingers tangling in her hair... It was just good, so very good, to let go. When Mitsuru finished, she wiped herself slowly and deliberately on Yukari's tongue.

The light in the room seemed too bright when Mitsuru drew Yukari's face back out into it. "Well, it's time for your performance review. Lie back on the table and spread your legs."

Still a little dazed, Yukari accepted a helping hand.

"No doubt you're aware of your failures," Mitsuru said coolly, hovering over her. "It should come as no surprise that I won't overlook them. And what a mess you've made of yourself!" She hiked up Yukari's skirt and traced a finger along the edges of Yukari's labia, feather-light. "You're of no use as a worker, but perhaps you'd make an acceptable toy. Of course, I'll need to perform extensive quality testing. We at the North Pole have quite a reputation to uphold." Her thumb rubbed a slow half-circle around Yukari's entrance. "Are you prepared?"

"Yes, please, Madame Claus." Despite how ridiculous the scenario had become, Yukari's voice came out raw and tremulous. "Please use me however you like."

Mitsuru pushed three fingers in at once, and Yukari's cunt sucked hungrily at them. When the fourth followed, Yukari began to shake with excitement; they didn't do this often, but it always left her wracked and half out of her mind. Already exquisitely stretched, she gasped when Mitsuru's hand began to twist, working in up to the knuckles.

This too was letting go, reducing the world to the sensation of Mitsuru filling her up. Yukari squirmed, fingers digging into the edge of the table, as Mitsuru's thumb worked its way inside. Right up to the taut edge of possibility, and then beyond.

When Mitsuru's fist flexed inside her, Yukari couldn't help keening. It felt like Mitsuru filled more than just her cunt, like she'd poured all of herself inside, touched every place hidden inside Yukari, and still wanted to stay. Every motion of Mitsuru's arm made her feel like she was being turned ecstatically inside-out.

Yukari angled her head up to watch her labia envelop Mitsuru's wrist. Her cunt contracted in slow, deep waves. The view disappeared under Mitsuru's head, with its curtain of hair and silly hat, but this was no real hardship; Mitsuru's tongue painted long strokes over Yukari's clit.

And Mitsuru was still wearing that stupid Santa suit, and Yukari was apparently playing the role of sexy incompetent elf, and the orgasm thrashing through her didn't care.

The act of pulling out always left Yukari feeling a little cold and empty, so Mitsuru had come into the habit of holding her close afterward and stroking her hair. "Was that good?" Mitsuru murmured, lips brushing along her ear.

Yukari still throbbed with aftershocks, clenching around Mitsuru's absence. The soles of her feet tingled. "Y-yeah. That was... mmm." She paused to accept a kiss. "That was really hot, Senpai. Like, _wow_." With a little giggle, she batted the pom-pom on the Santa hat. "Even with, y'know, this."

Mitsuru's cheeks reddened. "I apologize if this was... strange. I'm afraid that I can't explain the attraction this outfit holds for me."

Yukari laughed again. "Um, have you looked at _me_ lately? I'm sure not gonna judge."

"Regardless, I want to thank you for indulging me." Mitsuru cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Are any of your needs unmet tonight?"

Laughing had shifted something inside Yukari. "Well, actually," she began, then slipped out of Mitsuru's arms to walk, a little stiffly, into the closet. She returned a few seconds later with a harness and a dildo in a thematically appropriate shade of green. "Madame Claus can't keep up that whole reign of sexy terror thing forever, right? There's gonna be an uprising."

The bemusement on Mitsuru's face rapidly turned to amusement. She rose to help Yukari with the straps. "When she's alone in her bed and completely off-guard?"

"Exactly." Yukari winked and snugged the dildo against herself. "The great North Pole uprising begins here!"

Mitsuru headed toward the bedroom, casting a sly smile over her shoulder. "I'll never see it coming."


End file.
